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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24743212">Lucky Buck's Magical Coffee</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/27dragons/pseuds/27dragons'>27dragons</a>, <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/monobuu/pseuds/monobuu'>monobuu</a>, <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/tisfan/pseuds/tisfan'>tisfan</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Magic, Barista Bucky Barnes, Coffee Shops, M/M, Magic Potions, Mechanic Tony Stark, beauty is only skin deep, working for a living</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 11:09:04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>8,362</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24743212</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/27dragons/pseuds/27dragons, https://archiveofourown.org/users/monobuu/pseuds/monobuu, https://archiveofourown.org/users/tisfan/pseuds/tisfan</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Fantasy Bingo: Technomage</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>James "Bucky" Barnes/Tony Stark</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>243</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>622</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Fairytale Bingo</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p><strong>PLEASE NOTE:</strong> We do not permit our works to be added directly to private/individual collections, only collections for events like bangs and bingos. This is a longstanding policy, due to how easy it is for someone to accidentally (or maliciously) hide our work from everyone, even us! (This actually happened to us multiple times before we decided on this policy.) The best way to collect one of our works is to create a bookmark of the work and add the bookmark to your collection, and then it will be visible from the Collection page, under “Bookmarked Items”. Thank you for understanding.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>
    
  </p>
</div><p> </p><p>“What even did you do to it?” Bucky demanded, peering in his cup. It was supposed to be a triple shot espresso with a custom blend Lucky in Love potion. One of his most popular drinks, and what practically kept him in business. Being a potioneer in the modern world was tricky business. </p><p>Back in his mother’s day, love potions were all the rage. But through legal pressure and the consent issues, that business was illegal. You could still get one if you knew where to look, but both the potion giver and the maker could be held accountable for overpowering someone’s will.</p><p>Bucky had learned to gently massage his skill, to influence the drinker in a positive manner, instead of having the potion get slipped in someone’s cocktail while they weren’t looking.</p><p>Lucky Buck’s was his shop. Potion-making was his game.</p><p>Also, he was a killer barista, and the caffeine base did a wonderful job of keeping the potions perky.</p><p>But what he was looking at right now was not Lucky in Love, but something that was a truly revolting shade of green.</p><p>Lucky, maybe. Green was still a lucky color. But, “I’m not sure what this would do to someone who drank it, Clint.”</p><p>“I didn’t do anything, it just came out that way,” Clint complained.</p><p>“Right. Okay,” Bucky said, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Put out the temporary closed sign and I’ll call the repair guy.”</p><p>Not his favorite wizard in the world, either. Howard Stark was a good technomage, but he was a <em>terrible</em> person. The sort of guy who probably went looking for blackmarket love potions. </p><p>He dialed the number. It’d been years since he’d had to call Stark’s.</p><p>“Stark’s Wizardry; how may I direct your call?” The posh-sounding British receptionist sounded exactly the same as always.</p><p>“Emergency repairs, please, yes, I’ll hold,” Bucky said. He looked back at the green goop. “Here, put this next to my kit, I want to figure out what it does do.” Which could be important for disposal. He didn’t want to put, say, a sex pollen potion in the fire and spread it across half a city block.</p><p>“--fine, can I just--? Thank you! Stark here, what’s your emergency?” It had been a long time, but Bucky didn’t remember Howard sounding quite so... young.</p><p>“My potion dispenser is… churning out something dangerously not like what I asked for. It was cleaned two weeks ago, and my casting hasn’t been off, so I need someone to come take a look at it before I poison someone. Or lose all my income for the day.”</p><p>Bucky was watching outside the window as people leaned in to squint at the sign and then walked away. Each one, a customer who might not be back. God damn it.</p><p>“Yeah, those can be tricky, is it-- Tell you what, I’ll just pop over directly. Hang up the phone and step back a couple of paces. JARVIS, pull the return--” Stark hung up, mid-sentence.</p><p>Huh. Speedy service. That was better than Stark usually did. Most of the time, Bucky had to make an appointment. </p><p>But Bucky did as he was told. That was a new travel method, but he’d seen people do close-up teleporting before. Usually, however, it was to a designated travel pad. Bucky did a quick sweep of the area to make sure the guy wasn’t going to appear blended in with one of the chairs.</p><p>Only a few seconds later, there was an audible <em>bamph</em> of displaced air as a man appeared at the counter, only a few inches from where Bucky had just been standing, his hand resting on the top of the phone. “Great, okay, now where am I?” He turned around, stopping when he spotted Bucky. “Well, hello there, hot stuff. You call for a techno-wizard?”</p><p>That definitely wasn’t Howard Stark. Not unless Howard had mixed himself up some <em>extremely</em> dubious de-aging potions-- but no; Howard had blue eyes, and this man had wide eyes the color of really good whisky. Or dark honey.</p><p>“You’re not Stark,” Bucky said, instinctively. “Did he send you--”  The espresso potion-maker started making weird hiccuping noises from the counter. “I did call. My potion dispenser made-- that.” He pointed at the cup full of green slime that was now bubbling over the sides of the cup. <em>Yuck</em>.</p><p>“Oh, wow, I haven’t seen that before,” the mage said. Before Bucky could stop him, he reached out and swiped a finger through the goo. He sniffed at it cautiously, then -- oh, double <em>yuck</em> -- licked it off. “Coffee base? Yeah, okay, I can see it; the caffeine  would interact with most of the common potion solvents to--” He kept talking as he edged sideways toward the espresso machine, almost as if it were accidental.</p><p>“...Of course, if you’re using chlorophyll, you’ve got to be careful to avoid Kenyan beans, especially a dark roast, because the particular quality of the oils those beans produce will--” He spun around and opened both hands, pointing them toward the sullenly-grumbling machine. He had sigils tattooed on his palms, Bucky saw, that were glowing a bright, eerie blue.</p><p>The light burst from the wizard’s hands and engulfed the espresso machine, which seemed to slump in dejection. “Yeah,” the mage said, leaning forward to peer through the light at the dispenser. “You’ve got a minor possession going on, here. When was the last time you had your wards updated?”</p><p>“Uh, the building doesn’t belong to me,” Bucky said. “I rent it. Hydra’s supposed to take care of all the warding, it’s in my rental contract. Every six months, I’m told.” Although come to think of it, he hadn’t seen Sitwell in almost a year now. “I can check my records -- usually the guy comes in for a lunch on the house, which I’m allowed to back bill against my rent.”</p><p>“Oh, <em>Hydra</em>,” the mage said knowingly. “Yeah, they’re pretty notorious for skimping on their wards, I’m afraid. I’m surprised you haven’t called me before this.” He puttered around the espresso machine while he talked, etching colored lines in the glowing globe around it.</p><p>Bucky watched, almost spellbound, as the man worked. He had long, quick, clever fingers and a way of talking to the espresso machine like he believed it was <em>alive</em>. Also, he kept bending over to check things, and the rearview was to die for.</p><p>“So, you’re Howard’s-- what, protege? I’ve never worked with anyone else.”</p><p>“What?” He glanced up, startled, then rolled his eyes. “Yeah, no, Dad never wanted to admit I existed, half the time. He didn’t like that I’m not very traditional about my spellwork, nevermind that it’s twice as effective.” He put his hands on either side of the espresso machine and his palms glowed bright blue again. It looked almost like it was pushing the magic and light through the lines he’d laid down, until the whole thing was nearly too bright to look at--</p><p>And then the lines of light broke away, tumbling off the espresso machine and reforming into an imp, no taller than Bucky’s knee. “Go on,” the wizard told it. “Off with you.”</p><p>The imp hissed at him, which didn’t seem to phase him at all, and then disappeared with a soft <em>pop</em>. “Right,” the mage said as the last of the glow faded. “Give it a try now.”</p><p>“Right,” Bucky said, staring at the spot where the imp had been. You always heard about those sorts of things, but he’d never actually seen one. “Uh, yeah, let me get a new cup.” He grabbed a mug, ground beans from his house blend and tamped them. Two drops from the Essence of Luck and one from Hearts into the bottom of the cup. </p><p>Steam hissed over the beans, and Bucky counted in his head. Twenty-six seconds. Pretty good. The espresso had a nice crema on it, and when Bucky added the steamed milk, he drew a little heart and arrow through it.</p><p>“Looks much better,” Bucky said. </p><p>“Smells fantastic,” the mage agreed. “Just a little fruity. Almost like... blueberries? No, plums.”</p><p>“It’s a lucky in love spell,” Bucky said. Obviously, he could drink it, but potions never worked on their makers. It was some sort of rule of three; Bucky had to give out in the world to get back. “Not a big one, of course. Just increases the possibility of meeting someone, or having it work out, or having a good date. It’s my second best seller.”</p><p>“Oh? What’s the best, then?”</p><p>Bucky rubbed his thumb and forefinger together. “Money for Nothing,” he said. </p><p>The wizard laughed. It was a gorgeous laugh, rich and full, and made his eyes crinkle at the corners delightfully. “Yeah, I probably should have guessed that.” He reached out and picked up the espresso cup. “I’d rather have love, myself.” He turned the cup around in his hand carefully, then poured the coffee into his mouth, the foamy point of the arrow first, like it was leading the way down into his stomach. “The name’s Tony, by the way.”</p><p>“Bucky,” Bucky said, offering his hand. “Natural Potions master, and barista.” Natural was a title that was rapidly giving way; magic was diluted enough in the blood that most people were degreed. Not that, magically speaking, it mattered all that much. The only time a client really needed to have a Natural was for something custom, or complicated. Anyone with enough study and a few drops of magical blood could brew basic potions.</p><p>Tony took Bucky’s hand; his grip was firm without being obnoxious, and the tattoo on his palm was just a tiny bit warmer than the skin around it. “Glad to meet you, Bucky.” He glanced down at the espresso cup he still held in his other hand, then set it down with a faint smile. “I’d be even gladder if you agreed to go to dinner with me.”</p><p>Bucky knew his own magic. He couldn’t be affected by it, but he could be… well, he could be someone else’s match. Huh. That had never happened before. </p><p>“Uh, yeah. I… I think I’d like that.”</p><p> </p><p>
  
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Working for a Living</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Jarvis flapped Tony’s coat at him as he was ready to leave. “I have insider information that the weather ifrit’s had a fight with his spouse. It may rain later today.” It didn’t look like rain according to the screens that Tony had open that showed the outside world. It looked sunny and peaceful and lovely. But Jarvis was seldom wrong about these things.</p>
<p>The spirit of technology was still relatively young, compared with his brothers and sisters -- spirits of air, earth, fire, water, and void -- having only started coming into being about the mid seventeenth century, or so.</p>
<p>Jarvis himself had been formed in 1835, fathered, one might say, by the invention of the Analytical Engine, in the workshop of Charles Babbage. For a spirit, he was practically a baby. To Tony, he was impossibly old and wise. But then, Tony was a technomage, and spirits of the “natural world” didn’t tend to speak with him.</p>
<p>“Right, so I’ll want an umbrella,” Tony said, digging through the closet for one, “and to bump <em>personal force fields</em> up on my to-do list. And not to suggest a walk in the park for my date. Or maybe I should; Bucky’s a Natural Witch, maybe he’d enjoy getting caught in the rain.”</p>
<p>Tony was on his way to Buck’s Lucky Coffee as soon as he found a functional umbrella, to meet up for their third date, as soon as Bucky turned the afternoon shift over to Clint. He was somewhat unreasonably giddy about it; three was an important number in both the physical and magical worlds, and so three dates seemed... significant, somehow.</p>
<p>He wondered if, after three dates, he could call Bucky his boyfriend, instead of “this guy I’ve gone out with a couple of times.” And why in Turing’s name did he have a pink umbrella with flouncy little ruffles all around its edges? They looked like they’d hold onto water and dump it on you at exactly the wrong moment.</p>
<p>The line wasn’t quite out the door, but only until Tony got there. The next person would, in fact, be out the door. Although that might have been because Bucky had an actual troll as a customer, and he both took up a lot of space and people didn’t want to stand near him. Tony was pretty sure all the nonsense about trolls was just racist bullshit. They did a really good job building bridges, so what, exactly, was everyone’s problem? There hadn't been an incident involving trolls and children in at least a century. (well, sensationalist magazines and abusive parents dragged that story out all the time.)</p>
<p>And even as Tony was putting that together, three more people got into line behind him. The date was not going to start on time, because there was no way Bucky was walking away and dumping a rush like this on Clint to handle alone.</p>
<p>Which was <em>fine</em>, it actually, absolutely was, because Tony was a little overloaded with work, himself, so he could get his coffee and go stake out a table in the corner and knock out a little work on his tablet while he waited. They both worked in customer service; it was a thing you planned around.</p>
<p>Tony squinted up at the ceiling and huffed over the patchiness of the shop’s wards. Bucky was going to have another imp in his espresso machine if the building super didn’t get some fresh protections up soon.</p>
<p>The line inched forward. The troll spoke actual trollish, which Tony didn’t understand. Neither, apparently, did Bucky, but Bucky gestured to Clint, who made a few gestures. SSL -- Supernatural Sign Language, which was left over from when trolls and witches and dwarves all worked together on some of the city projects, and had to learn to effectively communicate. These days, almost everyone spoke English, which seemed very human-centric, come to think of it. Maybe Tony could get some mileage out of a translation app.</p>
<p>“Get me a bucket,” Clint said. “He wants a venti-venti-venti.” Clint signed again, and the troll dropped a gold coin on the counter about the size of a jar lid.</p>
<p> A triple-venti was going to take a while to pull. Tony fished out his phone and started making notes. Translation app, personal force fields, the somewhat sticky problem of a cursed laptop that a college student had brought him that held the student’s only copy of their master’s thesis -- bad idea, that, <em>always</em> have multiple backups -- and thus couldn’t be de-cursed the quick and easy way, which had a tendency to leave a few memory sectors fragged.</p>
<p>The line kept growing behind Tony. But he’d finally gotten up to the second in line when the door pushed open and a tall, willowy woman came in with strawberry blond hair that was soaking wet and stuck to her face. “I don’t understand it,” she said. “It was <em>sunny</em>. The weather report said sunny all day--” She gasped a few times for breath -- if Tony had been running in those shoes, he’d have broken an ankle -- and gazed at the line in horror.</p>
<p>“Ifrit domestic trouble,” Tony volunteered. “Or so I heard.”</p>
<p>“You think I can send him my dry-cleaning bill?” She wrung out her hair and then took off her jacket, flapping water toward the door. Her shell top was sticking to her. “I’m soaking wet, I’m going to be late, I’ve been working the <em>worst</em> hours.”</p>
<p>“Hi Miss Potts,” Bucky yelled from the counter.</p>
<p>“Mr. Barnes,” she said. “Tell me you can save me.”</p>
<p>“I can save you.”</p>
<p>The troll collected his drink -- the repurposed ice-cream bucket still looked like an espresso cup in his huge hand -- and headed out into the weather. The door yawned and stretched around him to make room. That was a neat trick. Tony hadn’t seen it before; tech wizards said it was too hard, and so trolls and giants and some of the taller elven tribes complained about lack of access.</p>
<p>“Huh. I wonder when he had that installed,” Tony mused, eyeing the door, and then his attention snapped back to -- Miss Potts, apparently. “Does he save you on a regular basis? What’s your standard?”</p>
<p>“I’m probably only alive because of Mr. Barnes’ shop,” Miss Potts said. “Have you been here before? I <em>love </em>this place. I would live here, if they’d let me. <em>Working for A Living</em>. I think I might either die falling down the stairs in exhaustion, or actually push my boss down an elevator shaft without it.”</p>
<p>Tony let the two or three people between them skip ahead of him in the line -- he wasn’t going anywhere until the rush died down, anyway -- to make it easier to chat. “I only discovered it a couple of weeks ago,” Tony admitted. “Came in to exorcise the espresso machine -- it’s fine now, don’t worry -- and well, like you -- didn’t want to leave again.” He grinned. “Sounds like your boss needs to pause and have a cup, too. What do you do?”</p>
<p>“Personal Assistant,” Miss Potts said. “Pretty much whatever my boss says to do, all the way from taking notes at meetings to fetching his dry cleaning. Which wouldn’t be so bad, except they’re in the middle of a hostile takeover, and between angry dwarves and multiple on-site labor disputes, I’ve been putting in sixteen hours a day, six days a week, for almost a <em>month</em>.” She did look on the brink of falling over with exhaustion, her hands shaking.</p>
<p>“Yike,” Tony sympathized. “Is this his first hostile? I mean, someone with experience would have known to hire a temp for the duration or something.”</p>
<p>Up at the counter, Bucky was making two Money for Nothings, keeping up an easy patter with the customers about lottery tickets and checking their pockets. </p>
<p>“He seems to think that I’m the only one who can keep this company going,” she muttered. She pulled a magical compact out of her purse and opened it. The compact spouted a few uplifting and cheerful advertising-disguised-as-pep-talk phrases, and then-- “damn.” The purple smoke drifted out of the back and pooled around their feet. “It got wet. I am going to complain to the weather guild about this.”</p>
<p>“Nah,” Tony said. “I mean, go ahead and do that, sure, but here, let me see--” He plucked the compact out of her hand and peered into it. It wasn’t very sophisticated tech, but it only took a little for Tony to be able to manipulate it. A locking clasp, a tiny speaker and some wires connected to a button battery for amplification, and boom, tech.</p>
<p>Tony balanced the little thing on the palm of his hand and let energy flow into his witchmarks, making them glow a bright blue. There were some who said it looked spooky, but Tony had always found the light comforting. He coaxed little wisps of magic up into the compact and swept out the water, reversing some corrosion and a little bit of normal wear-and-tear, and reinstalling the sprite software that had drifted loose.</p>
<p>He popped the lid open again.</p>
<p>“Oh, honey, that shirt with that jacket, really? We’ve got some work to do.”</p>
<p>Tony rolled his eyes at it and handed it back to Miss Potts. “Here you go, good as new.” Well, it might be a little bit sassier than it had been before. Semi-autonomous sprite technology seemed to do that whenever Tony put his hands on it. </p>
<p>“How did you-- thank you,” Miss Potts said. “My name’s Pepper Potts, it’s nice to meet you.” She held out a hand for a professional shake, but when her fingertips touched Tony’s, he felt the brief surge of Empathic Magic. No wonder her boss wanted her on site all the time. Empaths could affect the moods and compliance of people around them with a simple touch.</p>
<p>“Tony Stark,” he said. He considered her briefly. “Want to quit your horrible job and come work for me?”</p>
<p>“Are you <em>joking</em>?”</p>
<p>The woman in front of Tony in line took so long deciding what pastry she wanted with her coffee, Tony was almost certain that her coffee was going to be cold by the time she actually took a sip. </p>
<p>“Here,” Bucky said. “I got yours already, doll. And Miss Potts, I’ll have your life affirming moment ready in just two minutes.”</p>
<p>Bucky put a mug, rather than a to-go cup on the counter in front of Tony. The heart in the steamed milk on top was glittering red and gold at him.</p>
<p>Tony shot Bucky a warm smile and a thanks, and stepped aside with his mug so Pepper wouldn’t have to reach past him when Bucky finished hers. He turned the mug until the point of the heart was pointing straight at his chest -- sympathetic magics always worked better if you gave them a bit of a push -- and then tipped the froth into his mouth. Like it had the previous times he’d had Bucky’s Lucky in Love brew, everything felt extra-warm for a moment, and a little bit sparkly, and behind the counter, Bucky seemed glow, just the tiniest bit.</p>
<p>“I wasn’t joking,” he told Pepper, when he’d finished savoring that first sip. “My dad died a couple of years ago and failed to leave the business to me free and clear, and last year, almost on the anniversary of his death, his old business partner split the company and walked off with about two-thirds of the staff for his branch. I’ve been scrambling to keep up and looking for good people.”</p>
<p>Obie had done a little more than simply splitting the company, but the sob story wasn’t something Tony liked to wave around. Maybe, if she took him up on it, he’d tell her about it sometime.</p>
<p>Bucky, perhaps feeling something going on -- he seemed to have that sense -- put Pepper’s drink in a tall glass, complete with a bamboo recycled straw instead of in the to-go cup. “On the house,” he added, pushing an actual brownie-crafted brownie on a plate at her. “With a little extra daydreams.”</p>
<p>“I would <em>live </em>here,” Pepper repeated, taking a sip of the drink. “So, job. Details. Would you like to do an interview, I could do an interview. Right here. I even have my resume up to date.”</p>
<p>Tony glanced at the line behind the ordering counter, then shrugged. He wasn’t going anywhere soon. “Sure,” he said. “Let’s do that.” He pointed at a table.</p>
<p>It took barely a minute of scanning Pepper’s resume to know that she was vastly overqualified, and probably not getting paid anything like she was worth. She’d successfully negotiated a dozen contracts, as a <em>personal assistant.</em></p>
<p>A little nudging and she didn’t quite admit to being sexually harassed by her boss, but Tony could sense that maybe that had happened, too.</p>
<p>When Bucky finally came out from behind the counter, leaving Clint to finish out his shift, Pepper was smiling, cheerful, and enthusiastic, and it probably wasn’t all entirely due to Bucky’s coffee.</p>
<p>“Hey, snowflake!” Tony greeted him cheerfully. “I’m going to steal Pepper from her obnoxious boss. I’d offer to pay her what she’s worth, but frankly, I’m not sure I can afford that, so I’ll have to settle for merely doubling her current salary.”</p>
<p>Bucky tapped the plate in front of her, where she’d eaten the entire brownie except for a few crumbs. “Opportunity Knocks brownie. Glad you enjoyed it.” He gave Pepper a wink. “But now, <em>I</em> am going to steal my boyfriend from you, since we have a date as soon as I’m off shift.”</p>
<p>Tony pulled just a little magic out of his phone and flipped it at Pepper’s. “That’s my number,” he told her. “I’ll call tomorrow, and we’re going to do this. Start writing your resignation letter. Hire some clowns to see you out. Or strippers. Stripper clowns?”</p>
<p>Bucky rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “I know a clown dominatrix,” he volunteered. “She could always use extra work.”</p>
<p>“Perfect,” Tony declared. “Talk to you tomorrow, Pep!” He tucked his arm through Bucky’s and turned them toward the door.</p>
<p>Guess he could start calling Bucky his boyfriend, now. That was easier than he’d thought.</p>
<p>On the way through the door, Bucky offered his hand to the doorframe, cupping what looked like a thimbleful of honey and a tiny piece of bread. “Wood fairies,” he said. “She deserved a bonus after that trick with our Troll earlier.” He glanced up at the sky, which was still pouring rain, and the occasional spates of hail, in anger. “I don’t know if you had anything in mind, specifically, but there’s a traveling mystical petting zoo in the park. They probably have wind sprites to keep the weather off. I always wanted to see a unicorn up close.”</p>
<p>“I’m more of a wyvern man, myself,” Tony said, feeling the happy buzz of Bucky’s potion fizzing through him at Bucky’s closeness. “Yeah, let’s go to the zoo.” He held up the pink umbrella. “I can even keep us dry on the way, if you don’t mind walking close.”</p>
<p> </p>
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<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Beauty is Only Skin Deep</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It wasn’t often that Tony got an entire afternoon to himself. Pepper was working <em>wonders</em> with his schedule. He couldn’t resist doing a smug little jig down the sidewalk. She was totally worth every penny of the moderately huge salary he’d promised to assuage her guilt at walking away and leaving her former boss in the lurch.</p><p>Not that the guy hadn’t deserved it, but Pepper was just. Nice.</p><p>Even if she took absolutely no shit. Which, to be honest, was probably something Tony needed in his life. But in between taking no shit, she’d rearranged several appointments and meetings and -- presto! -- a free afternoon. It was better than actual magic.</p><p>Bucky would be working, of course, not having known Tony would have time off in time to arrange someone to cover his shift, but Buck’s Lucky Coffee was a comfortable, cozy sort of place; Tony could camp out in his favorite chair and flirt with his boyfriend between waves of customers. Maybe have a few words with the POS machine and see if he could coax it into running a little more smoothly.</p><p>Lucky Buck’s wasn’t like the chrome and flash of the modern coffee shop, designed to get you in and out quickly so as to not use up too much of the shop’s complementary wiz-fi. The building was centered over one of the main ley lines that ran through the city, but unless you were out in the country, you had to pay to tap into them.</p><p>Bucky’s place was full of soft, cozy chairs, shelves of books, local fae art hung on the walls, and he even had a small case of leprechaun-crafted jewelry. It invited touch and smell and recharging. Tony had never been somewhere that he felt quite so <em>comfortable</em>, unless it was his own workshop. </p><p>He hadn’t yet figured out how much of that was Bucky’s magic, and how much of it was just Bucky.</p><p>He pushed into the shop, and then bought himself up short.</p><p>The place was mostly deserted. One regular lounged in a beanbag chair in one corner, taking sips out of her latte and reading <em>Horoscopy Tomorrow.</em></p><p>Aside from Bucky, the only other person in the shop was hanging over the counter like he was on display. Long, black hair, pale skin, green eyes. Dressed entirely in green and black, long legs encased in tight pants, the tails of his long coat draped just so. He had austere features, sharp cheekbones and a thin-lipped mouth.</p><p><em>Breathtakingly</em> beautiful.</p><p>“You really should consider my offer,” the man purred. “I’ll make it worth your while.”</p><p>Tony was wrenched between a sudden, knee-jerk reaction of <em>Stay away from my man</em> and a more logical certainty that Bucky had been in this business long enough that he certainly knew how to deal with an overly-flirtatious customer.</p><p>“Hey, hon,” he called as the door swung shut behind him. He tried to keep his tone light and casual. He wasn’t bothered by the shockingly gorgeous person putting the moves on his boyfriend. Nope, not one bit. “How’s your day going?”</p><p>“Hi, Tony,” Bucky said, leaning closer to the beautiful stranger. “I don’t know-- I’m not sure it worked quite right. You should let me try again.”</p><p>“You’re scarce affected by your own magic, you’ve told me so a dozen times,” the man complained. “Trying to dazzle <em>you</em>, I have to rely on my wit alone.”</p><p>Tony suppressed a growl. “What is it that you’re trying?” he asked, leaning up against the counter curiously.</p><p>“I’m serious,” Bucky said. “I think the mix was off. You can’t dazzle me with my own magic, but I can still tell if it’s working or not. It’s harder to work with good starting material, really. You’re so beautiful in your own right, it’s hard to make you <em>prettier</em>. Besides, I like the real you.”</p><p>“You’re sweet, but sweet does not pay my bills, darling,” the man said. </p><p>“Sure it does,” Tony said. “Have you seen the amount of sugar that goes into these drinks?” He grinned toothily. “Hi, I’m Tony, and you are?”</p><p>“Loki Laufeyson,” the man said, offering Tony a long-fingered, graceful hand. “Model, actor, singer. Poet. Renaissance man.”</p><p>“Liar, thief, and con-man while he’s giving you his resume,” Bucky said, amused. “Don’t touch him, he’s going to try to put the whammy on you.”</p><p>“The whammy?” Tony asked, even as his hand slid into Loki’s on pure autopilot.</p><p>Loki’s hand was cold, almost icy, and then warmed under Tony’s skin. “You’re ruining my fun, Barnes.”</p><p>“Loki’s an arctic kelpie,” Bucky said. “You know how I feel about you feeding in my shop. I got you a cookie, let him go.”</p><p>“I was only being polite,” Loki said, withdrawing his fingers. “And he’s got such a lovely aura. Reminds me-- of you, somehow.”</p><p>“Tony? You okay?”</p><p>“What? Yeah, I’m fine,” Tony said. He looked down at his hand. It looked normal. “Never heard of an <em>arctic</em> kelpie. What do you feed on?”</p><p>“Life force,” Loki said, easily. “Like vampires, succubi, and homunculi, among others. It’s hardly noticeable, really. This city is wonderful. I can walk down the street and brush dozens of people in a few blocks. They never miss it. And as for why you’ve never heard of us; well, the old legends didn’t realize we were shapeshifters, capable of being horses, as well as men. They called us <em>frost giants.</em>”</p><p>“Still, I can see your keloids on the neck,” Bucky said, reaching out and not quite touching what looked like a faint whorl against Loki’s skin. </p><p>“Well, then, mix it again,” Loki said. “I know I’m beautiful, you know I’m beautiful. I think even this lovely little morsel here knows I’m beautiful. But the cameras, you know. They don’t like <em>blue skin</em>.”</p><p>Tony huffed. “That’s dumb. They just need to shift the white balance a bit. Warm that blue up, just a bit.”</p><p>“I’ve been trying to tell him for years that he should just rock the natural look,” Bucky said. “And still, once a week, like clockwork, here he is for a little extra strong Beauty is Only Skin Deep.”</p><p>“I hardly need an adorable liver, Barnes,” Loki said.</p><p>“There must be someone out there who’d appreciate it,” Tony mused. “But probably not anyone you’d care to charm.” It shouldn’t have been such a relief that Loki was only here for Bucky’s potions, but it was.</p><p>“Here, try this, see if we can’t clear that right up,” Bucky said. “As long as I’m doing a job, I want it to be a good job.”</p><p>Loki sniffed, not quite disdainful. “Maybe the quality of your ingredients is off. You know what they say--”</p><p>“Better ingredients make better pizza, yeah, I know,” Bucky said, darkly. “I haven’t changed suppliers--”</p><p>“Well, maybe it’s you,” Loki said. “Did you do something stupid like fall in love?”</p><p>“Hardly seems stupid to me,” Tony said, unable to entirely dampen his scowl.</p><p>“That’s an old wives’ tale, and you know it,” Bucky said with a sigh. </p><p>“Your mother was one of those old wives,” Loki said. “And she used to say it.”</p><p>“I always forget that you’re <em>so old</em>,” Bucky said. “Must be why you’re so annoying. More time to practice.”</p><p>“It’s only true for schooled witches,” Tony said. “Natural witches like Bucky work <em>with</em> their feelings.”</p><p>“Ma used to say a lot of stuff,” Bucky said. “Didn’t make it true. She used to tell me I’d get a cramp and drown if I swam after eating lunch, too.”</p><p>“Ah well,” Loki said. “Since you’re obviously both so attached to each other--” he gestured between Bucky and Tony “--then I suppose the only thing to do is ask if you’d like to go back to my place. The pair of you.”</p><p>Bucky made a choking sound halfway between trying to disguise a laugh as a cough and then coughing for real.</p><p>Tony glanced at Bucky, amused, and then gave Loki a slow once-over, just for show. “That’s the only thing to do, is it? That’s all you can think of?”</p><p>“Why not?” Loki asked. “You’re both young, good looking-- I know Barnes is <em>very</em> flexible. It’ll be fun.”</p><p>“You know I have a rule about sleeping with customers,” Bucky said.</p><p>“But aren’t--”</p><p>“Tony’s not my customer,” Bucky said. “I’m his customer. And he didn’t tell me about any rules he had against dating clients.”</p><p>“I don’t have any rules against dating clients,” Tony admitted. He’d never really thought about it until he’d met Bucky, to be honest.</p><p>Loki flipped out a business card -- seemingly blank, until he blew a puff of chilly air over it -- and dark blue calligraphy spread like frost, spelling out his name and number. “Call me, if you change your mind.”</p><p>Loki waved, and sauntered out of the shop. There really wasn’t another word for it, the way his thighs moved and the way his hips swayed from side to side. It was almost hypnotic.</p><p>Tony absently rubbed his thumb over the writing -- the cold lingered in the ink -- and then laughed and dropped the card on the counter. “Every week, huh?”</p><p>“Yep,” Bucky said. “He uses my magic to keep ‘hold of his disguise. Otherwise, when he gets mad, or emotional, he grows about three feet, turns bright blue, and has the most amazing scarification all over his skin. Like frost. It’s <em>gorgeous</em>, but he doesn’t see it.”</p><p>Tony hummed. “Too bad, that.” If Loki appreciated his natural form more, he might stop pestering Bucky. “Can’t possibly be as gorgeous as you.”</p><p>“This,” Bucky said, gesturing to his, well, everything. “Is all <em>natural</em>.”</p><p>“And all mine,” Tony said, leaning across the counter to claim a kiss.</p><p>The girl with her magazine was being not-quite subtle about looking over the edge. It was made easier by the third eye she opened in her forehead, but she was still peeking. </p><p>Bucky took hold of Tony’s shirt and dragged him even closer to give him that promised kiss, Tony had lean up on tiptoe to get it. </p><p>And it was every bit as warm and human as Loki had been icy and inhuman. On the counter beside them, the card started smoldering in protest.</p><p>Bucky huffed and let go, dumping a glass of water over the card. “Before he sets off the fire-alarm. <em>Again</em>. To be an ass.”</p><p>Tony snorted. “Tell me you charge him triple.”</p><p>“Don’t be ridiculous,” Bucky said, wiping up the mess. “But I usually only give him coffee, the first two times. The third one’s the actual charm. Some day, I hope he won’t need it.”</p><p> </p><p></p><div class="center">
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<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Money for Nothing</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Fairytale Bingo - Russian Mythology</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Bucky yelped and dodged a flying cookie sheet. The cookies -- which smelled horrible and looked worse -- went everywhere and he barely missed being hit by a fresh-out-of-the-oven copper baking tray.</p>
<p>“This--” Bucky yelled, gesturing around at the kitchens, which had several buckets of water under various leaks “--is not my fault!”</p>
<p>“I can’t work like this,” Kobik sniffled. “You know what running water does to fae.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, I get that,” Bucky said. “I’ll call someone.”</p>
<p>“You better!”</p>
<p>She practically chased him out of the kitchen, all three feet of rage and butterfly wings and white hair, smacked him with the cookie sheet again. “And stay out of my kitchen, I’m mad at you!”</p>
<p>Bucky tried to tell himself that everyone in Lucky Buck’s coffee shop didn’t immediately go back to their drinks, like they’d all been listening in. He was lying like a cheap rug, but he told himself that anyway.</p>
<p>The door opened and Tony came in. He was talking on his phone, a glowing illusion spinning in the air in front of him as he walked. The edges of the illusion were blurry and rippled, and when Bucky tried to look directly at it, it was just a scrolling list of heavy metal band logos. Privacy illusion layer, then, which meant it was something important and proprietary.</p>
<p>“Yes, but there’s only so much <em>anima</em> in old tech,” Tony was saying. “The older it gets, the more-- I know that, that’s why I’m suggesting that we...” He paused, frowning, and looked up at the ceiling, doing a slow, careful sweep through the narrowed eyes he got when he was pushing his vision beyond the mundane. “I’m going to have to call you back,” he said, and thumbed off his phone, banishing the illusion with a wave of his hand. “Bucky, honey, what’s going on?”</p>
<p>“Pipe leak,” Bucky said, pointing to where the water was dripping in. He’d managed to do a few things to it -- he wasn’t a master potioneer for nothing -- so that it didn’t smell so bad and wasn’t toxic, which it had been. But it was still leaking in through the roof at multiple locations. “Upstairs unit is vacant. I’ve been trying to reach the building supervisor all day.”</p>
<p>“And I can’t work in these conditions--” Kobik burst, coming through the door with a tray of brownies that at least smelled and looked all right. “My wing is wet, Barnes! It’s <em>wet</em>! Do you know how long that takes to dry?”</p>
<p>Tony stared at Kobik with wide eyes. As well he might; anyone employing a vila knew that it was best to keep them happy. Kobik... was not happy. “Pipe leak,” he repeated. “And your wards are down.”</p>
<p>“Here, here,” Bucky said, grabbing one of his potion bottles. “I’ll make you a drink, Kobik. On the house, you’ll feel better.” Employees usually only got one free potion drink per week. Sympathetic magic or not, if it got spread too thin, sometimes there was Karmic backlash. He tamped down the coffee grounds and pulled the shot, watching carefully. The espresso maker had been better since Tony fixed it a few months ago, but--</p>
<p>His brain suddenly caught up to what Tony said. “Shit, what?”</p>
<p>The espresso maker took advantage of Bucky’s distraction, coughed like an alley cat spitting up a hairball, and he groaned. The stuff coming out of the machine looked almost exactly entirely nothing like <em>coffee</em>.</p>
<p>“Shit--” Tony thrust out his arms and blue light shot from the runes tattooed on his palms, enveloping the espresso machine. It quieted the coughing, at least, but now everyone in the place was <em>definitely</em> watching. Tony watched the espresso machine warily for a moment, making sure he had it contained, and then turned back to Bucky. “Wards,” he repeated, and pointed upward, then cocked his head at Bucky. “You didn’t know about that?”</p>
<p>Bucky grumbled and went looking for his satchel -- they’d already been in the weeds when he walked in, so he hadn’t had time. “They’re Abjured Wards, I can’t see them without magical aid. I’ve got-- ash and rose--” He grabbed the monocle crystal out of his pack. Usually the wards were faint, sickly green lines that blinked like malfunctioning neon signs.</p>
<p>Today, there was-- nothing.</p>
<p>Not a single eldritch flicker.</p>
<p>“And pipes,” Tony repeated thoughtfully. He looked around the front of the shop, the customers at their tables sipping drinks and tapping on their laptops or phones. “No leaking out here,” he observed.</p>
<p>They were probably all tweeting or MaskBooking or whatever it was that people did on magic media these days. He could expect several bad reviews, possibly. And whenever that happened, he’d end up with angry customers, and they’d curdle the magic.</p>
<p>Maybe it was time to enter the black market of love potion brewing or something.</p>
<p>“Yeah,” Bucky said. “I’m trying to get the building super, but the phone’s just going to voicemail.”</p>
<p>Tony snorted. “The pipes are <em>only</em> leaking in the kitchen, where your fae staff works,” he pointed out. “I’m pretty sure the super jinxed the pipes <em>and</em> conveniently ‘forgot’ to update your wards, on Hydra’s orders.”</p>
<p>“That’s illegal,” Bucky said, immediately, because it was. Everyone knew that running water was bad for fae magic, and could, after long term exposure, actually cause serious health problems. He dumped the sludge. “Is this going to hold together for another ten minutes, or do I need to brew a pot over a fire?”</p>
<p>Tony squinted at the espresso machine. “It’ll hold for about fifteen minutes,” he estimated. “Hydra <em>really</em> wants you out, huh.”</p>
<p>Bucky shrugged, grinding more beans. “I have a pretty sweet rental agreement. Remember about six years ago when the city was offering tax incentives to open up Natural Magic shops?”</p>
<p>Those had been some really good incentives. For Bucky, he’d been able to borrow money to open the shop at a negligible interest rate, plus he got almost $16,000 worth of tax deductions over the first three years. Hydra got a similar package for renting to him, which let him negotiate his rent for about thirty percent off the going rate, with a locked in rental contract for ten years. Which meant, now, he was paying less than half of all of his neighbors in rent, at least.</p>
<p>His shop brought in a lot of money, and customers that came here often went into the other shops in the building, so he would have thought Hydra would be stupid to not just wait for the lease to expire.</p>
<p>“Yeah, I remember,” Tony agreed. “But <em>World Tree</em> says that Insight, Inc. is looking to move into the area, and this would be the <em>perfect</em> building for them to set up in... if Hydra had a few units available for them. Did you say the upstairs unit is empty now?”</p>
<p>“Yeah, that was Misty’s shop,” Bucky said. “I liked her, she sold magical jewelry and crystals and paraphernalia. I used to get some of my spices from her, she was always ethically sourcing them, so they didn’t have too much contamination.”</p>
<p>Tony nodded. “Hydra wants you out in a big way.” He pulled out his phone and started tapping on it. “I think it’s past the point where we wait for the super to re-up the wards, because, yeah, that’s not happening. I’m calling in some help. He’s just a kid, an intern, actually, but I swear I have never seen tighter wards. <em>Ever</em>.”</p>
<p>Bucky pulled another shot, and this one actually looked and smelled like it was supposed to. Thank the spirits for small favors. Milk, two pumps of Fortune Favors, which always smelled to Bucky like cookie dough. Dumped in the shot, added ice and spices with a deft hand. Extra whipped cream, and because it was Kobik, he added a few shakes of edible glitter. “One Money for Nothing,” he said, handing it to her.</p>
<p>She always looked ridiculously young to be drinking coffee, the cup was practically the same size as her entire head.</p>
<p>She was not quite halfway through it when a tall, lanky young man pressed through the door, looking somewhat harried, carrying a paper bag from the deli a few blocks up. “Mr. Stark?”</p>
<p>Tony looked up with a grin. “Peter. Come here, did you get-- Good.” He took the bag and put it on the counter in front of Kobik. “For your lunch,” he said.</p>
<p>Garlic bagels. Bucky could smell them from four feet away.</p>
<p>“Oooh, bagels,” Kobik squeaked when she came up for air. “Gimme!” </p>
<p>“Stop acting like a child,” Bucky told her, “You’re four hund--”</p>
<p>Kobik scowled at him. “Go on, mention my age one more time, Barnes, I’m warning you--”</p>
<p>Bucky handed over the bagels before he ended up under a nasty curse or something. Kobik was fun to tease-- to a point.</p>
<p>Tony had his arm slung around the kid’s -- Peter’s, apparently -- shoulders, which was comical, because Peter was at least six inches taller than Tony. Tony was pointing up at the ceiling, explaining what kind of wards Bucky usually had up. He glanced back at Bucky, eyebrows raised. “Unless you want to update the settings?” he suggested. “A warning, maybe, when Hydra comes through? Can’t legally keep them <em>out</em>, but it’s good to know where they are.”</p>
<p>“That might be useful,” Bucky said. “I didn’t even know anyone had been upstairs to do anything to the waterworks up there. I really don’t want them in the shop.”</p>
<p>Bucky would never tamper with a customer’s drink badly enough to give them bad luck, but he had been known, from time to time, to leave out the magical part of the drink all together. Some people just didn’t deserve magical fortune. And if asked, well… part of what made sympathetic magic work was some damn sympathy.</p>
<p>“You got it, Mr. Stark!” Peter said. God, the kid was like an eager puppy, all wide eyes and enthusiastic bumbling. Bucky half-expected him to sprout a tail to wag.</p>
<p>Instead, he stepped (bounced) back a few steps, curled his fingers, and started... it looked like he was <em>flinging</em> something at Bucky’s ceiling and walls, carefully covering every corner. The magic sizzled a little as it locked into place, briefly glowing in pale lines shaped like spiderwebs before fading into invisibility.</p>
<p>Tony didn’t interrupt the kid once, which was something of a miracle, just stood back and watched, nodding to himself and looking smug.</p>
<p>It didn’t take very long. Sitwell, when he came around to do the wards, usually took at least an hour, complaining all the while about how hard it was to make sure they were properly sealed. Except for the intense look of concentration on Peter’s face, he could have been an eight-year-old throwing whirlygigs just for the fun of it, and he finished at just shy of a quarter-hour.</p>
<p>“Nicely done,” Tony approved, clapping Peter on the shoulder.</p>
<p>“Well, that should keep the gremlins out,” Kobik said. “They have a weakness for chocolate, you know. I found them eating chips when I came in this morning. Right out of the bag! Like savages!”</p>
<p>Bucky didn’t laugh at her, but it was a near thing.</p>
<p>“Disgusting,” Tony agreed seriously, though his lips were pulling into a smile. He leaned against the counter. “Hey, hon, you got enough juice left for a drink for Petey-pie? I’ll pay. Call it his bonus for the work.”</p>
<p>Bucky eyed the kid for a minute. Most of his customers either knew what they wanted, or thought they knew, at any rate. Money for Nothing was one of his most popular drinks; everyone wanted something for nothing. But not this kid. Bucky let his inner eye gaze at the kid. Good work ethic, determined. Strong. Powerful. Keen sense of personal responsibility. Topped off with a healthy dose of anxiety and a desire to prove himself. </p>
<p>“You look like an egg cream sort of man,” Bucky decided. </p>
<p>Kobik squealed with delight. “Custom drink! Custom drink!”</p>
<p>The base wasn’t much, milk and chocolate syrup, topped with soda, which made the whole thing frothy. He hovered his hand over the mixes of potions and flavors, additives and ideas. A shot of Study Habits -- Peter was obviously still a student, which would give it a slight hint of minty freshness, some Carefree Sleep, and just a tiny bit of good karma. </p>
<p>Had to go easy on the Karma. A step above luck, but too much and it had a Monkey’s Paw effect.</p>
<p>“Here you are.”</p>
<p>“Thanks, Mr. Barnes!” Peter took a drink, and lowered the cup to show off a mustache of foam. “Wow, that’s amazing!”</p>
<p>Tony smiled fondly at Peter, and slid a bill across the counter in the general direction of the register. “There. Now the kid’s been paid for his work, and I’ll expense the drink, which means if Hydra wants to take offense at you having your own wards installed, they can try to come after Stark Industries.”</p>
<p>Bucky nodded. “Thanks, that’s-- clever. But maybe I ought to consider moving. It’s a good spot, though, right over the ley line. There’s not that much real estate in this city that gives that much jolt to a magic shop.”</p>
<p>“Well, this should give you some breathing room to look around a little. Where’d Misty end up moving to?” Tony leaned to look through the doorway into the kitchen. “And what are we going to do about your pipes?”</p>
<p>“Call Bobby Drake,” Kobik suggested, around a mouthful of bagel. Her third, if Bucky was counting correctly. “He can just freeze all the water, and then it doesn’t matter for a while, if it’s not <em>running</em>, I can work.”</p>
<p>“And if the ice bursts the pipes, Hydra will have to fix it before they can sell either unit,” Tony pointed out with a smirk.</p>
<p>“Yeah, okay,” Bucky said. He called up to Xavier’s School for the Gifted and with a few misdirections, managed to get Drake on the line. “He’ll be down in about an hour, needs to finish his history class first.”</p>
<p>“These young folk are going to save us all,” Tony said, smiling fondly at his intern, who was busily attempting to lick egg cream mustache off his upper lip.</p>
<p>Kobik beamed. “I like you.”</p>
<p>“She’s sensitive about her age--” Bucky mock-whispered.</p>
<p>“<em>Barnes</em>!”</p>
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  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>https://mythology.wikia.org/wiki/List_of_Slavic_mythical_creatures Kobik is a Vila in this story, who is depicted as a young woman/young girl with butterfly wings who is generally friendly with humans, helpful, and loyal if you possess a piece of her clothing. The word is similarly translated in Russian as Fairy, so we’re putting her in the population category as fae, for the sake of the universe’s census (along with a dislike of iron -- see copper baking pans -- and a weakness for running water) and keeping some of the Russian, like her love for garlic.</p>
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